


Soulitude: A story of Life, Death, and the Inbetween

by ShadeDuelist



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, based on art, reaper au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeDuelist/pseuds/ShadeDuelist
Summary: (Soulitude is its own AU, based heavily on Underswap)Long ago, REAPERS walked among HUMANS undetected, doing the work of the Eternal Will and taking the souls of the dead to the Underworld, until a terrible curse was spoken over them to reveal their true forms.  As a result of that curse, war broke out between the two races.  The Humans mercilessly killed the Reapers, and in the end, the King and Queen of Reapers resorted to retreating into the Underworld and casting a great spell, the Barrier, to hide them from humans.  All went well for centuries......until a human child, Frisk, followed their relatives into the Underworld, unable to let go.  And that event set in motion the proceedings which will be recorded here...





	

“The Council of the Underground is now open!” Asgore’s deep, vibrant voice echoed through the Hall of Judgment, silencing all that stood within. There were nine, himself included: nine Head Reapers, all tasked with a specific kind of harvesting souls. His black cloak and pure white-and-lilac robes that designated him as Reaper of the Elderly swayed slightly as he sat back down in his chair, next to his wife and the current ruler of the Underground, the fair and righteous Queen Toriel, Reaper of Children, her white mantle and golden armor shimmering in the faint light coming through the windows. Next to Toriel stood the Custodian, Captain Alphys the Almighty, Reaper of Fighters, her copper armor looking like it was made of liquid rather than solid metal. Then, on the opposite side of the room, next to Asgore, stood Gerson, Reaper of Victims. The Reaper of the Poisoned, Muffet, stood near one of the pillars, looking intently at the King and Queen; by her side stood the hooded figure of the Royal Scientist Reaver, the Reaper of the Terminally Ill, their pristine white robe without crease and a thick veil masking their face as always. Then, there was Undyne, the Reaper of Those Killed By Accident - she wore the same white robe as Reaver to denote her status as their assistant, but her robes were far from pristine, being splashed with residues of oil and ink as well as torn and frayed at the edges, and she did not wear the veil. Then, near the throne but opposite the windows, stood the Reaper of Fire and Smoke, a fire elemental called Grillby, dressed in an immaculate suit, burning without consuming. And the final figure of their party was the ominous black-caped Ferryman - humans called him Kharon in the days of old, but his actual name was Gaster, and he was the Reaper of the Murdered. The semi-skeletal reaper pushed back the hood of his cape, revealing pleasant features that are nevertheless eerie: deep black eyesockets, cracked features, a mouth slanted at one corner into a perpetual grimace… If ever one of their number would be the personification of The Destination, it would be him. But no one of their group was intimidated by him, used to his appearance as they were. As usual, Toriel spoke the ritual first words of the Council’s meeting in her clear, warm voice.

“We stand here, leaders of the servants of The Destination, humble vessels of the Eternal Will, banished from the world of the humans by a curse and a spell that binds us here, in the Underground… until the day that the Eternal Will shows us that it is time for our return…”

“Until the day that the Eternal Will shows us that it is time for our return.”, the others echoed clearly, and Toriel rose from her seat.

“I have called you here due to a… _transgression_ that was committed.” Now murmurs rose up among the Reapers. “A transgression, I believe, you are all aware of.”, the queen continued, and it was the Reaper of the Terminally Ill whose voice sounded first.

“We did already notice the absence of the two Royal Children… where are Prince Asriel and Prince-Consort Frisk?” Their tone was amused, even lightly giddy, but none of the others in the room found any offense in that. At least, none of the others showed any sign of offense. Not even Queen Toriel reacted in anger.

Her reaction was far _more_ uncharacteristic.

“Prince Asriel and Prince-Consort Frisk… will not be joining us. Not today, and not… and not anymore.” Tears formed in her large, rust-colored eyes as she spoke slowly, jarringly. “...As you all know, Prince-Consort F-frisk is a human that chose to cling to their deceased kin during their transition to the Underground. It was not uncommon in the old days, but it was the first time for this to happen since the curse was spoken… humans are very sensitive about the subject of death coming up-”

“I don’t see _why_ ”, Alphys interjected, only for Asgore to speak up again, his voice heavy with emotion at this point, the light in the hallway dimmed to a sickly twilight that was only lifted by the candles in the brackets on the walls and pillars, and the glow that Grillby cast around himself.

“Alphys, please… let us finish.” The lizard-like fighter fell silent, moving her head from side to side before sighing and nodding, motioning toward Toriel to indicate that the Queen of their realm could continue.

“...Humans are very sensitive about death, especially when it’s their loved ones that are afflicted. So Frisk came to the Underground along with them. At first, they mourned, and slowly, they learnt to accept death, and they opened up to us all. Especially to Prince Asriel. They were both children with a heavy burden placed upon them - Frisk up on the surface world and Asriel down here, training to succeed me and Asgore - and as such they connected in ways that humans and Reapers have not connected since the curse was placed upon us. We accepted Frisk in our midst, taught them our history… and they chose to stay here, in the Underground, with us. That way, they could soothe the passing of those human souls that didn’t adjust too well down here. Asriel requested that Frisk become their consort, so we gave them the title of Prince-Consort and educated them in how to assist the Prince.”

“...The transgression?”, Gaster asked in his raspy, wheezy voice, his hands fluttering without moving his cape, and Asgore sighed.

“My old friend, we were just getting to that.” The Queen looked upset to have been interrupted, but on Asgore’s subtle hand gesture she relaxed again and continued in an airy tone meant to hide how emotional she was.

“...The Prince-Consort suddenly fell ill. The illness was a vicious one, sapping their energy and wearing them down to an empty, hollow shell of their former self. You all remember the increase in the number of restless souls?” All those present nodded, not speaking, and the Queen sighed before continuing, this time unable to mask the emotions in her voice. “...It was inevitable. We had all thought it, but had hoped that it would prove to be untrue. Frisk was dying. The Underground saps all humans of their strength and vitality, to the point of death. We mourned and prepared to receive Frisk’s soul among the throng of souls that we soothe into the afterlife… but we never received the soul. Frisk passed away, but their soul never arrived. I remember well watching out for it, asking the Reapers throughout the Underground about it, but…”

“But Asriel transgressed.”, Asgore said, and the hush that fell over the Council was, for lack of a better analogy to all those present, _deathly._ Then, finally, a tactful word spoken by Grillby.

“... ... _How?_ ”

“Asriel had looked up the old texts and had concluded a _contract_ with his Prince-Consort, his _sibling_ \- because that was how they viewed one another, how everybody in the Underground viewed them!” The words were spoken with defiance, though nobody dared challenge the Queen, especially not when white-and-gold fire brimmed around her hands. Then, fortunately, she sighed and spoke much more softly, her tone having that bittersweet element in it to show how painful it was for her to relate what had happened. “Asriel and Frisk had concluded a contract, binding their souls together in his body. He did not wish to part from Frisk, and it was Frisk’s wish not to part from him either, clearly - but any such contract takes away what protection us Reapers have against the curse placed on us. We… all of you know how humans view us. They call us monsters. ...Asriel… became that. A monster.” For a moment, while that information seeped in, everything was quiet, but then the queen sighed and continued: “...What happened next is clear enough, though we can only guess _why_ it happened. Frisk wished to see the surface world once more before, most likely; Asriel passed through the barrier as if it did not exist, because of Frisk’s soul, but out there he was not safe from the curse. He was not hidden as we all are until called to reap a human: he had gone out of the reach of the magic that keeps us safe, the magic that exists inside our self-imposed exile, the barrier, with nothing but his newfound powers. He… Prince Asriel was _vulnerable_. Strong, most likely, because a human soul possesses a power no Reaper possesses, but vulnerable. Humans call even the most harmless of us Reapers monsters, fearing us for what we represent, and seeing a six foot figure with a goat’s head and a humanoid body wielding a large scythe and wearing long black robes must instill fear into the hearts of even the strongest of their kind. The humans found Asriel, and they… wounded him. They drove him back inside the barrier, but the wounds were too grievous and he…” A sob escaped the Queen of all Reapers, and the silence in the midst of the Council grew shocked.

“...And he died.”, the Reaper of the Terminally Ill said softly, their voice emotionless and even and their pristine robes barely fluttering.

“...And he died.”, Asgore repeated, taking over from the Queen as she was unable to speak, clearly. “His body dissolved into dust, as we Reapers are like to the dust of this world - present everywhere but invisible until there is a disturbance. The altered soul…” For a second, the King looked at the Queen, who imperceptibly shook her head; then his deep, sonorous voice rang out through the hall. “The soul that he took from Frisk and, in doing so, altered irreversibly… it was lost to us. It… disappeared. We know not where it went, but we have inquired with each and every Reaper in our realm and none have seen it.”

“And what is the reason why you have called all of us here?”, Muffet spoke softly, her almost girlish voice a stark contrast to her spiderlike body, and Toriel rose from her throne, her voice booming imperiously through the Hall of Justice.

“I have called all of you here because what Asriel and Frisk did was wrong. No Reaper may _ever_ take a human soul onto them. If this happens again, regardless of who does it… then _all of us_ are in grave danger! I urge you, instruct the Reapers in your service to _never_ transgress as Prince Asriel did. For if they do…”, Queen Toriel said, raising her staff, topped with the gleaming gem of pure white, and all fell silent once more, though this time the quiet was even more haunting. As Queen of Reapers, Toriel was the only one that was allowed to banish Reapers from existance. She didn’t have to speak the words, but they were felt, as good as voiced, in the midst of the Council.

Any that dared take a human soul onto them would face the ultimate consequence.

“...We understand. No further… _transgressions_ … will occur…”, Gaster spoke solemnly, his hands moving very meticulously, his black cape not even moving. The others quickly fell in with his statement, and in the end, Queen Toriel sighed and nodded.

“...For all of our sakes, I hope that is true. But this transgression has taught us valuable lessons as well… I believe…”

“My Queen…”, the Reaper of the Terminally Ill said smoothly, bowing deeply but without revealing anything beneath their pristine robes. Next to them, Undyne wrung her ichthyan hands nervously, the fins on either side of her head shaking slightly. “...if I may do the honours?”

“Yes, Reaver, you may.”, the Queen said, gladly settling back down onto her throne and allowing the figure in all-white to speak.

“...We have looked into the writings that Prince Asriel had access to and… well, further analysis is needed, but we think that there is a way to… break the curse.”

The silence that fell over the Council was shocked and short-lived.

“...B-break the curse?!”, Muffet stammered, and Grillby showed a rare moment of mental upheaval. Toriel nodded and took over from the Reaper of the Terminally Ill.

“Yes, break the curse. Live among humans without fear of repercussions for being what we are. Appear just as human as they are and blend in perfectly. No more need to hide. We believe the old texts that Asriel and Frisk revealed to us by their transgression hold the answer.” Another silence fell over the council, this one even shorter than the previous one. Grillby was the first one to speak up, his voice clearly emotional after all the revelations..

“ _...I… did not think it was possible…”_

“My honorable Queen…” All present turned to Gaster, who stepped forward, falling to one knee in front of the thrones, his hands floating in front of him and fluttering slowly as he spoke in a solemn tone. “...every boon has its cost… what will we need to do... to break the curse?”

“...We will need human souls. Not human souls as the ones we take here to prepare for their passing into the afterlife, but… _the souls of living humans_ … Souls _that have not lost their energy._ ” Gaster rose slowly in the silence that ensued, a confused silence in which all of the members of the Council looked at each other. “Gaster-”

“I understand, Queen Toriel.”, the Ferryman said, and both his voice and his use of the Queen’s given name betrayed a less-than-balanced emotional state. Toriel, however, either remained oblivious of that fact or disregarded it, because she answered calmly.

“Frisk came to us accompanying their dead relatives - others will do the same in their grief, and we will _use_ these humans _for the greater good!_ Carry the instruction to all Reapers - let all in the kingdom hear and obey! No human that wishes to accompany their relatives into the Underworld will be turned away anymore! All will be brought to the Royal Palace and kept here in order to amass the power we need!”

The group started talking pell-mell, Toriel and Reaver first and foremost into the discussion, but Gaster slunk over to Asgore.

“...My King… my _friend_ … you know what Queen Toriel intends to do… Are you… do you accept it?” Asgore scratched through his beard and looked at the others - Muffet’s gesticulating arms, Reaver’s calm and composed motions of hidden limbs, Undyne’s blustering form standing beside the white-robed Royal Scientist, Alphys’ loud and belligerent questioning, and Toriel’s barely hidden joy at the thought of being freed of the curse - and he sighed.

“Gaster… my old friend… Whether or not I accept this is of no importance. Toriel will do what she has to do, and I…”

“And you follow the Queen in everything you do, naturally. All of us do. I am not asking you whether you do are disloyal to your Queen and wife. But she does not plan to give these poor humans the same courtesy as she gave Frisk.” The King sighed.

“I… I am sure she will give these humans all of the respect they are due.”, he said, and Gaster slowly shook his head.

“...Queen Toriel… is an admirable queen, formidable in her might and strong in her resolve. But I wonder…”

“What, old friend?”, Asgore asked kindly, and Gaster spoke with minute motions of his hands.

“...I wonder how deep her grief over the Prince and the Prince-Consort go… and whether they are enough for her to forego all else...”, he said enigmatically, and the King of Reapers sighed, turning away from his friend to look at his wife and wonder.

When he turned back, Gaster had disappeared.

  
  


\- several years later -

Gaster hastened to the Royal Palace, his cloak flapping behind him as he rushed through Hotland as quickly as he could. He disliked the heat of the lavalands, but they were necessary to purify those souls that were weighted down by sins and material attachments alike. His hands were at his side, holding the letter of King Asgore tightly - a summons from the King of Reapers should not go unanswered, he mused before reminding himself that this was not a letter of a King to his subject and personal advisor, but a letter from one friend to another. Asgore had asked him to come to the Palace at his earliest convenience, and who was he not to honor such a finely worded request?

The two guards at the entrance stepped forward to halt him, their dark metal scythes flashing into being in the blink of an eye, but they stepped back again as soon as they saw it was him, allowing him passage into the Palace proper. However, when he checked on King Asgore’s favorite spot in his living room, he was not there, which was strange - Queen Toriel was always in either the Barrier Room reviewing the strength of the spell protecting them, or the Hall of Judgment; but King Asgore very rarely left the Palace. Then again, perhaps he was tending to his flowers, which grew all over the throne room? Gaster fondly remembered the golden flowers, and how Asgore had monologued endlessly about how they were his private little piece of the outside world. ‘Unafraid, unfazed by the cycle of life, and unashamedly beautiful’, he’d called them, Gaster remembered with a smile. Briskly, he wound his way towards the Hall of Judgment, so focused on finding King Asgore that he was oblivious to the sound of voices until he reached the door leading to the throne room.

“...don’t understand how you could be so...blind?”

“...not blind, but… ...is folly! Have you forgotten… ...Frisk so much! Where has that love gone?” The voices drew closer, and Gaster stepped carefully back from the door, lowering his disconnected hand again. Yet neither the King nor the Queen came bursting out of the throne room, and the discussion continued.

“...not mention _love_ or _Frisk_ to me! Where is _your_ … ... _your_ love? Our children-”

“Our children are dead - you, of all beings, should understand!” Asgore stood right next to the door, his voice clearly audible to Gaster, who felt his body shiver. He was privy to a private discussion between partners, between _the Queen and the King_ \- he knew decency commanded him to turn away... But something told him to stay, and listen, and keep his magic handy for a hasty escape lest Queen Toriel came charging out. “Tori, please… my love, my dearest, _stop_ this _madness_ -”

“... ...had hoped you… ...but I see now...” The words of the Queen of Reapers were muffled by the distance and the thick doors of the throne room, but the tone they were spoken in and what little Gaster understood were clear enough.

Then, the door opened, and Asgore appeared outside with a heavy sigh, prompting Gaster to gasp and step backwards.

“...My friend… my King-”

“Gaster, how much did you hear?”, Asgore asked - no greeting, no surprise, though considering the situation Gaster felt like those would be superfluous anyway - and when Gaster looked for the right words to convey he’d heard everything without actually saying that he’d heard everything, the King nodded. “...Well, I had hoped as much. Friend… as my oldest and most trusted, most valued friend… you need to _see_ just what she did, my _wife and Queen_ …” Now Gaster was surprised. Asgore was usually meek, soft-spoken and careful in choosing his words: but now he spoke angrily, vengefully even, with all the makings of a man wronged in every way.

“Asgore…”, he started, but the large furry monster shook his head and, putting a friendly but decisive hand on his shoulder, pulled him closer so they both stood in the doorway, turned towards the throne room.

There, on the golden flowers, lay two still forms. The ground and petals they lay on were sprinkled with droplets of crimson, and the skin they showed was deathly pale.

Gaster paled as well, though his already-white features didn’t display that properly.

“...Oh my god…”, he whispered, his hands moving in a flurry, frenzied, as he hurried towards the forms. “...Oh my god… I had my suspicions… but… but I hoped… Queen Toriel is a benevolent Reaper, a Golden Queen…”

“She no longer holds those titles in my eyes.”, Asgore said, and Gaster looked at his friend with pain in his eyes.

“...Asgore… my oldest friend… Do not harden your heart… ...We must… provide the rites for these souls…”, he said, and Asgore sighed.

“...Toriel… called for Reaver… to come and collect the _bodies_ … while she… _safeguards what is most important…_ ” Again, the King of Reapers spoke in an envenomed tone, and Gaster didn’t need to lean down to see the mauled mess of the humans’ chests.

“...She… carved out their souls…? ...I had hoped she would… still have some grain of… compassion… I… honestly had hoped the other humans… would remind her of Frisk enough…”, he admitted, squatting down beside the two bodies and suddenly turning to Asgore. “...My King… if I may still call you that… considering what your heart is set for now…”

“You, Gaster, may always call me ‘friend’...”

“...My friend, then… Will you overrule your Queen? These bodies… they are not ideal, but to see them… _perverted_ … by Reaver… I could perhaps… give what little of their essence that clung to their body… I could give them… a _second chance…_ ” Asgore looked at him in utter confusion for a moment before nodding with a smile.

“...I thought… I thought she had sensed it as well, which is why she sent for Reaver, I presumed. There is still a… _presence_ … in them… As for your question… you know you do not need to ask, old friend. They have been _murdered_ \- and a murder, no matter who has committed it, will always be a murder... Very well, Gaster. Take their bodies, as is your _right_ as Reaper of the Murdered, and give them what little you can. I have a feeling these humans will be vital in ways _other_ than what Toriel has intended for them.”, he said, resting one heavy hand on Gaster’s shoulder - the Ferryman likewise rested his hand on Asgore’s shoulder. It was an old ritual, one that not many observed anymore because it had become irrelevant in the Underworld: a parting ritual. Sharing a sparkle of magic in order to strengthen the other party.

“...Where… if I may ask…?”, Gaster asked, and Asgore shook his head.

“...It is better if you don’t know, my friend… but far away. In a place that not even the Queen of all Reapers can sully with bloodshed. ...The parting will be bittersweet, but… I can’t stay here. Not anymore. Not after this.”, he said, motioning for the bodies that still lay on the flower-strewn floor. Gaster nodded and squeezed his hand a little on the King’s shoulder in a soothing gesture.

“...Go with the blessing of the Eternal Will... and work His good work wherever you end up...”

“...And may the Eternal Will bless and keep you, save and purify you, until all that remains of you is golden memory and magic eternal…”, Asgore said calmly, nodding before turning away and walking toward the Palace. Gaster, meanwhile, crouched down next to the bodies and grasped their hands in his before opening a large portal into Nothing and stepping through the black seething mass to his home on the bank of the Nameless River. Once he was in there, he carefully laid the bodies onto his bed, looking at them with more scrutiny.

“...The damage was extensive… but their base structure seems to be intact… save for trauma to their eyesockets… The only saving grace in this foul deed… is that their death must have been instantaneous… fortunately, the damage to their chests… was done postmortem… and thus can be restored... Ah, young souls…”, he said as he moved his hands over the gravely disfigured flesh of their chests, feeling faint residues of human power pull at his magic. “...it is ironic, but fitting all at once... for me, the Reaper of the Murdered, to _spare_ you and _revive_ you… Perhaps you will not be as you once were…”, he said, pulling his hood back and then carefully hanging his heavy cloak away before starting on summoning his magic so he could make something viable out of the human remains. “...But I think that you will be _more_ … more than you _ever_ could have dreamt… I offer you an exchange, young souls… a merger of power and life-force… _a courtesy for a courtesy..._ ”

Bright light erupted and reached for his hands, and he nodded.

“Then, It Is Done!”, he spoke solemnly, allowing the light to reach his palms and marvelling at the warmth it still held. The Reaper of the Murdered allowed himself one last thought before setting to work _undoing_ death for just this once. “...You two… will have a part of my soul… which will make you Reapers, too… Can you accept this fate?” The glow around his palms intensified, and Gaster smiled as he began the long, painstaking process.

  
  


The next meeting of the Council came as predicted, and Queen Toriel sat imperiously at the front of the Hall of Judgment, in her throne which had now been positioned in the center of the room. Asgore’s throne stood in the throne room, where none but her were allowed access anymore. Tears of pain, of anger, but above all of _regret and shame_ , still filled her eyes when she gazed upon that throne, and no one should know about how she sat there in the evenings and cried bitterly…

“The Council of the Underworld is now open!”, she spoke imperiously, rising from her seat and speaking the ritual words: “We stand here, leaders of the servants of The Destination, humble vessels of the Eternal Will, banished from the world of the humans by a curse and a spell that binds us here, in the Underground… until the day that the Eternal Will shows us that it is time for our return…”

“Until the day that the Eternal Will shows us that it is time for our return.”, the others repeated - Alphys and Grillby loudly, Undyne and Gerson more soft-spoken, and…

“...We are _missing_ one… where is our Reaper of the Murdered?”, she asked, and the others looked around as well until a clear voice sounded from the back of the Hall.

“...My Queen… I am here…” Toriel looked at the approaching figure, but saw not one but _three_ figures approach. The two others wore cloaks just like Gaster’s, but their posture was different: the shorter one of the two had a ramrod-straight back and strode with clear self-importance; the other was a tall and lanky figure - or they _would be_ , if they weren’t slouched while they walked closer.

“Gaster? Are these some of your Reapers that you took with you into the Council to help you?”

“No. These are my… _sons_ …”, he said, and when the two figures removed their cloaks, Toriel felt her heart stop. The short skeleton with the bright blue eye, the tall lanky skeleton with the cigarette still clamped tightly between his teeth… even without seeing their souls, vibrant light blue and luscious orange, she knew who they had been. There was no mistaking the starburst holes that were once eyesockets - the two skeletons’ mirrored injuries had a bright light inside of them in lieu of the ghostly white pupil that adorned their unharmed eyesocket - and the fracture-lines that ran over their sternums. She herself had caused those injuries, ripping their bodies apart searching for what she needed. Reaver, too, seemed to recognize the bodies that they had been denied of having, but the Reaper of the Terminally Ill didn’t show any sign of mental imbalance - which was understandable, since nobody knew what those voluminous white robes harbored.

“...These are… they… h-how…”, she stammered, realizing what had to have happened but unable to voice the thought, something Gaster eagerly used to introduce the two newcomers.

“...These are my _sons_ … Sans, the Reaper of the Stabbed… and Papyrus, the Reaper of the Shot… and I will now be… the Reaper of the Suffocated…”

Gaster’s words met with outcries from the rest of the members of the Council, giving Toriel a much-needed moment to recompose herself. Alphys was loudest and most vocal of all, clamoring that a single Reaper could not possibly procreate.

“Show me the Reaper that bedded you! _Show me_ , and I’ll judge if they were worthy of the experience!”, she shouted - Gerson and Undyne tried in vain to calm her down, and Muffet and Grillby both looked between Alphys and Gaster, until the Ferryman rose to his full length and spoke imperiously. Even Queen Toriel looked at him as he spoke, because she was suddenly reminded of the old adage ‘do not cause ripples’, an adage that _Gaster_ invented.

“Ask Queen Toriel and Reaver what happened - and if they do not deign to answer you, then why should we? ...The Queen has my loyalty and my allegiance, as she has all yours - as she will now have my sons’-”

“WE ARE LOYAL TO QUEEN TORIEL, QUEEN OF ALL REAPERS!!”, the shorter of the two skeletons said energetically, and the tall, lanky one, his brother, nodded. “I, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, REAPER OF THE STABBED, WILL DO MY BEST TO UPHOLD HER RULE AND SUPPORT HER POLICIES! THAT IS ALL THERE IS TO KNOW!”

“...yeah, same here.”, the second of the two said, shrugging and looking at his father, an orange glow surrounding his form for a second. Gaster nodded and bowed towards Toriel, who felt the grim calmth in the gesture, not to mention the element of distance within it. Gaster had been Asgore’s personal advisor and closest friend, so she’d looked for answers about her runaway husband with the Ferryman, and clearly he had not taken kindly to being questioned at the palace.

“My Queen, you know full well their souls are mine. Do you deny it?” For a second, she meant to clamor that yes, she denied it, that their souls were not his but _hers_ , safely imprisoned inside glass cages in the Barrier Room, awaiting the moment when the spell could be attempted. But then she looked at the other Head Reapers and she remembered that their cooperation hinged on them not knowing the terrible deeds she needed to do to gain the human souls. As far as the others were concerned, she _talked_ the humans into giving their souls up. So she sighed and shook her head.

“...I cannot deny that these young Reapers’ souls are yours, Ferryman. Sans and Papyrus, as sons of Gaster, you are both welcome in the Council.”

“MANY THANKS, GRACIOUS QUEEN!”, Sans said loudly, and the other Head Reapers spoke much more quietly and reservedly to Gaster. Even Alphys, who was usually the first one to start shouting again, seemed almost demure. In the discussion that escaped Toriel, surprised and in mental turmoil as she was, she suddenly felt a hand upon her arm; looking up, she saw Reaver stand next to her, their mask emotionless as always and their veil barely fluttering.

“...Queen Toriel… Gaster defied you.”

“I want to know how he managed it. The extraction process was messy, but their souls… I _held_ their souls! I _felt_ them! _How did Gaster get them back inside of their bodies?!_ ”

“Oh, but he did not.”, Reaver said calmly, prompting Toriel to blink yet again, which in turn gave rise to the white-robed Reaper to explain themselves. “...The color their souls have… it is vibrant, certainly, as a testament to how bright those human souls were, but it is nothing but _resonance_. Gaster’s magic reshaped the bits of their essence that clung clumsily to their bodies and gave them back the basest form of life - _his_. They are his sons, just… not born of him. _Made by him_.” Suddenly, the Reaper of the Terminally Ill’s voice got a feverish quality, though the veil hiding their mask-like features did not even ripple. “That man is _trouble_ … of the _highest degree…_ But I must admit that even I am awed by what he made of the humans you… _persuaded_. You can barely tell that they were once… human… His magic, however he used it, is masterfully woven over them.”

“I… _how_ , then, Reaver? _How_ did he give life where I dispensed death? _How_ did he create their... _resonance_? _How did I miss those bits of their essence that lingered?_ ”, Toriel asked, and the Reaper of the Terminally Ill sighed softly, looking back at the two skeletons that wore brightly-colored clothing, prompting the Queen to look at them as well. The small one bowed graciously and moved with surprising speed as he stood beside his ‘father’ constantly; the tall one moved with less grace but still managed to always be by his father’s side. Neither of the two showed any signs of unease at being in the same room as her; then again, neither of the two showed any signs of abandoning Gaster’s side. It was somewhat disconcerting to see Gaster’s tall and impossibly thin appearance look even taller and more lanky when the shorter of the two new Reapers stood next to him, while the taller one dwarfed even Gaster and made _him_ look stoutly built. “...And how did he remove the bodies so fast from within the palace? I can think of no magic he has command over that could do it - and I thought I knew all of my Reapers… How did he take their bodies away from within _my_ chambers?!” Reaver looked like they would agree for a split second, but then they spoke in a more hushed and calm tone again.

“...My Queen… I would advise caution. None of the others know-”

“Gracious Queen...” The sudden sound of Gaster’s voice right in front of them took both Toriel and Reaver by surprise: the Queen started, but the Reaper of the Terminally Ill merely turned around a little more sharply than they normally would have. Gaster stood there, with his two sons, all three of them kneeling as soon as they noticed they had the Queen’s attention. “I have just realized that I did not yet formally introduce my sons to you… These are Sans and Papyrus… my beloved sons, and my proudest achievements in this world…”

“OH, FAIR AND GRACIOUS QUEEN TORIEL! MY FATHER HAS TOLD US ALL ABOUT YOU! HOW FAIRLY YOU RULE, AND HOW WISELY YOU USE THE POWER THAT YOU WIELD! BUT HE DID NOT SHARE HOW TRULY GRACEFUL AND OUTSTANDING YOU ARE!! IT IS AN HONOUR TO STAND BEFORE YOU AND PLEDGE MY ALLEGIANCE TO YOU, FAIR QUEEN TORIEL!”, the younger one spoke, getting up and taking a step forward, kneeling while brushing his teeth ever-so-lightly over her hand. “I, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, REAPER OF THE STABBED, WILL PROTECT YOU AS IS MY DUTY AS A REAPER UNDER YOUR COMMAND!”, he finished, and his brother nodded his head, speaking less grandiosely and in more simple terms.

“queen toriel, you have my allegiance as well. dad told us about how your rule is just… and how you have always treated your reapers with fairness and courtesy. you have my loyalty - just like dad has. isn’t that right, sansy?”

“I HAVE TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME ‘SANSY’, PAPYRUS! IT IS DEMEANING!!”, the shorter of the two instantly corrected him, and the elder of the two chuckled softly, nodding.

“sorry, bro.” That last word prompted a dissatisfied groan as well from the shorter skeleton, but he didn’t react again, allowing Gaster to speak up from behind the two, his cloak fluttering softly as his hands moved in familiar speech patterns.

“Gracious Queen… you have my sons’ loyalty, as you have mine…” The Queen looked down at him, but he looked back at her in a way that could be described as defiant, and she snorted softly.

“It is a pity I did not see your sons before today… where have you been hiding them? And with such brilliant souls…”, she said - it was all she felt comfortable saying, what with the eyes of the other Head Reapers slowly turning to her and Gaster as he had his sons pledge their allegiance to her formally. Gaster answered in kind, his words sinuously twisting themselves and oozing hidden meaning.

“...My Queen, surely you understand… that the turmoil our Underworld is in… meant it simply wasn’t the right time to pass on my duties… no matter how able and tried my sons are… They deserved to be spared… from such horrors that have befallen us… the death of the Prince and Prince-Consort, the consternation of possibly breaking the curse… They are indeed brilliant in every way, but… I dispensed my mercy and trained them in their duties without distractions… until all three of us felt that the time was right for coming to this Council together…”

“Well…” The way the three were kneeling and the now complete attention the others were giving her showed Queen Toriel that she was supposed to formally accept their pledge and allow them into the Council, but she felt the defiance of Gaster’s earlier look burn in her soul and spoke a little more boldly. “...Your mercy, though certainly understandable, was perhaps… _misspent_ , Gaster. Your first duty is to your tasks, Gaster - if your _sons_ hope to take over from you, then perhaps you should have initiated them sooner to the stark reality of life as a Reaper, and what better way than to pass on their duties in times as turbulent as that?” Reaver reached a hand forward, but Gaster’s answer had them stand frozen - and the frankness of his words, though they let on nothing of their true meaning to the other Reapers, was enough to make Queen Toriel’s soul burn all the more vehemently in her desire to punish this insolence.

“My Queen, we are Reapers, and our duties are very important… but I would like for my sons to be… _upstanding_ Reapers… capable of dispensing mercy and reaping only those souls that are truly meant to come with them… After all, murder is foul enough in and of itself… my sons have already faced the stark and grim reality of their job... and they came out of it better _thanks_ to my mercy, not _despite_ it… Besides, my benevolent Queen… you, of all the Reapers in the Underworld, should know… that _family_ justifies _every action_ … You would do _anything_ for your children… then is it so surprising I would do the same for mine? Is it so surprising that _any of us_ would do the same for _our family_?”

“Here, here!!!”, Alphys shouted loudly, and Toriel’s shock was effectively hidden by the outburst of compliments that Gaster and his sons got from the other Head Reapers. Reaver stood still as a statue beside her, their veil hanging down from their face not even fluttering with their breaths, clearly as horrified as her; Gaster and Papyrus looked at her defiantly now, while Sans looked at her in utter surprise, as if he didn’t understand what made her so upset. Wresting her hand free and taking up her staff again, she rose, causing the chatter to fall silent and all eyes to turn to her again, expectantly. Toriel sighed, biting back all the words that came tumbling from her mind ready to spill forth from her mouth - insults, angry remarks, but most of all the stark and brutal truth: she held all of them back in favor of perpetuating the lie she’d already started telling the people on Reaver’s insistence.

“...You are right, of course, Gaster. ...Sans the Magnificent, Papyrus, do you swear to uphold the rule of the Underworld: to respect the sanctity of the human soul, to perform the duties bestowed upon us by the Eternal Will, to never stray from the protection of the barrier, to show _mercy where due_ and _firm adherence to fate where needed_? Do you swear never to leave off your duties and carry them out dutifully as we all do? Do you swear to uphold the structures of our Kingdom, the decisions of our Council, and protect them and all its members with all your power, as fiercely and strongly as you would uphold and protect yourself?”

“i swear so.”, Papyrus was first to answer, but only by a split second before Sans followed.

“I SWEAR SO!”

“Then rise, Papyrus, Reaper of the Shot, and Sans the Magnificent, Reaper of the Stabbed, and be welcome in our midst as leaders and representatives of the Reapers.” Applause broke out as Sans and Papyrus gently pulled Gaster up to his feet again, as if the Reaper of the Suffocated had had trouble getting up - he rose at their lightest touch, his gaze once again meek as it had always been, and the three of them headed back to their place in the circle of Reapers, which expanded to fit the extra two members the Council now contained. The Council proceeded in a blur to Toriel from that point on: the motions on the agenda were voted - all were in favor of cautioning the Lesser Reapers against letting human souls stray too close to the rivers, and the news of the two human souls that Queen Toriel had ‘gathered’ met with general cheer from the Council. Gaster and his two sons, however, displayed only perfunctory cheer, and by the time the Council was dismissed, they were gone almost the second the doors opened. Papyrus, the lanky one in the hoodie, supported his father’s frame gently, with a convincing show of affection towards the Reaper, but Toriel knew better than to believe it. When the others had all gone as well, only Reaver lingered, bowing in front of her, their voice calm and smooth as the sands on the shores of the Three Rivers.

“...My Queen, Gaster has shown insolence beyond measure… Your restraint is marvellous - I would not have let them leave.”

“I thought of it. I thought of killing him ten times over, but what would that have accomplished, Reaver?”, Toriel admitted, sitting down in her throne again, sighing when she carefully caressed the stone of the staff she wielded, feeling the magic inside of it pull at her essence very gently. The warmth of that stone always surprised her - something that took away life should always feel cold, she mused, to fit the fact that something was stolen from the world. Stolen… like she had stolen from those two humans. Stolen, she amended a second later, like her children had been stolen from her. “...Gaster was indeed insolent, but… But killing Gaster would have meant revealing the truth about Sans and Papyrus - how I committed murder for these humans’ souls. The other Reapers would have rioted against it for certain-”

“All the more reason, my gracious Queen, to _respond_ to such brutality as he showed you today with… _ungentle persuasion_.”, Reaver said, that feverish quality in their voice returning, prompting Toriel to look at her most trusted advisor with a slight tilt of her head. “... _An errant Reaper threatens us all_ … Gaster’s insolence could still incite rebellious actions in the others… going so far, even, as to disobey your outright orders and _hide humans_ … and where will that leave your chances of saving this entire kingdom from the heavy curse that hangs upon us?”, the white-robed figure said, prompting the Queen of all Reapers to sigh and shake her head.

“...You think Gaster must be punished? Called back to the palace and… _set straight?_ ”

“I believe, my gracious Queen, that Gaster has _transgressed_ in giving life where death was due, and that that needs to be… _addressed properly…_ ” Toriel sighed, placing her heavy furry paws over one another on top of her staff before removing them and speaking up slowly.

“...Do what you believe must be done.” She opened her hands to reveal a small shard of the stone containing her magic - Reaver nodded, their veil fluttering for a few seconds as they accepted the shard. Feeling their nervous energy wash over her, Toriel added cautioning words: “...But try not to make it a spectacle. This must _not_ be known…”

“As you command, my Queen…”, Reaver said emphatically, bowing graciously before walking away, their robes rushing as they went. Toriel suddenly felt a fatigue come over her and rose from the throne, winding her way back to the Palace proper, wondering why she felt like she had given up a part of herself…

  
  


“...” Gaster sat in silence in his home, Sans and Papyrus by his side. Then, almost lazily, his hands moved. “...We made a bold move today… perhaps too bold…”

“gaster, she killed me an’ sansy-”, Papyrus started wearily, only to be interrupted by Sans who luckily had the sense to whisper.

“...I THOUGHT I _TOLD_ YOU, PAPYRUS, _DO NOT CALL ME ‘SANSY’!_ IT IS _DEMEANING_ AND _I HATE IT!!_ ”

“bro… c’mon, you know i mean it totally respectfully…”, Papyrus said softly, taking another drag from his cigarette, allowing the smoke to swirl from between his teeth slowly, prompting Sans to groan.

“I STILL HATE IT, BROTHER! ...BUT I KNOW YOU DO LOVE ME, AND RESPECT ME… YOU… _GAVE SO MUCH FOR MY SAKE…_ ”, the smallest of the two skeletons said, his voice dropping in volume almost automatically. “BROTHER… PAPYRUS… I AM SORRY FOR ALL THAT YOU LOST-”

“‘s nothin’ that i didn’t give up willingly for both our sakes, sans. look, you… you healed up well, an’ you’re doin’ fine. ‘s no soul like yours, so bright an’ shiny… don’t ever feel like you _owe_ me, ‘kay? out of the two of us, you’re the biggest soul-”

“ _SOMETHING I OWE TO YOU, PAPYRUS!_ THIS DEBT BETWEEN US, THAT YOU DO NOT WISH TO CONSIDER A DEBT…”, he spoke hastily when Papyrus meant to interrupt, causing the taller skeleton to close his mouth again with a sigh and a shake of his head, though he smiled in the process, “...I WILL _NEVER_ FORGET IT, AND I HOPE I AM FAVORED LONG ENOUGH TO SEE IT EARN YOU PEACE! … BUT WE MUST THINK OF OUR CURRENT POSITION, TOO! YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT THE QUEEN… SHE IS A GOOD WOMAN, THOUGH HER MIND IS CLOUDED BY GRIEF AND ILL ADVICE… SIR GASTER - _F-FATHER…_ ”, he said softly, prompting a broad smile from Gaster’s cracked skeletal features.

“No title could ever make me happier… than to be called ‘father’... I had never thought it possible… to have sons… I thank the Eternal Will that you accepted my offer… As for the queen… Reaver whispered to her again… and Toriel may be upset enough… to _give in to her_ … But... I suppose… we will deal with the consequences of our actions… when they come…”, the Reaper of the Suffocated said, looking at Papyrus again. “Papyrus… are you sure you… will be able to…?”

“i’ll manage. i’m not dyin’-”, the taller of the two skeletons spoke, taking another inhale of the smoke before getting cut off by Gaster again.

“You have only the basest of holds… on this life, this… _gifted_ life… I would not like… to see your brightness extinguished…”

“heh, don’t worry, dad…”, Papyrus said, his eye glowing a bright orange in the ruined socket, causing a similar but bright blue light to flare up for a split second in Sans’ similar headwound, “...i didn’t just _give up_ durin’ the transfer… i gained a lot of magic power, an’ a lot of knowledge… the ones that try an’ take me on are gonna be _real sorry real soon_.” Then, he tensed, raising a hand and promptly extinguishing his cigarette with the tips of his fingers. “...showtime. i hear ‘em creepin’ around. wanna give ‘em a surprise?”, he asked Sans and Gaster - the Ferryman grinned and nodded, his hands multiplying, while Sans’ grin just grew broader as the short skeleton summoned his bony scythe - a light blue weapon made of energy, the handle shaped like a long skeletal arm and the sharply-curved blade looking like iridescent chitin. The silence around them was deafening, the darkness that descended over them absolute… but then, voices sounded in the quiet, whispered orders mingling with the sounds of robes rustling and weapons being summoned.

“...Careful… we can’t… any sign that we were here!”

“Ma’am, ya rest ‘sured now… ...pride ourselves in not bein’ seen!”

“This is _Gaster_... ! ...pry it open - _gently_ …” The sound of wood creaking at the front door made Gaster take a step back, flitting into shadow, while Papyrus hid behind the door and Sans stalked behind an armoire just high enough to hide him. Then, the creaking turned to a loud, short ‘crack’ and the front door of the small house swung open, revealing four Reapers under Reaver’s command - little formless things made of a gelatinous and white substance that jiggled as they moved, with metal wings sticking from what was clearly their back - and Reaver themself, the white-robed figure stepping in behind the Reapers she’d employed. “...Where are they? ...Well, don’t _stand around_!! _Find them!_ ” The tiny Reapers fanned out, casting pinpricks of light magic about in hopes of revealing the hiding skeletons, but it were Sans and Gaster who made the first attack: Sans bellowed a loud battlecry as he jumped up and cleaved the first small Reaper clean in half before swinging his weapon and pinning a second one to the ground; Gaster, meanwhile, grasped two more Reapers with his magic-summoned hands and choked them slowly. Reaver took a step back, shocked, but then summoned their own scythe - a very clean white handle topped with a cruel-looking jagged metal blade that looked black as it swung. Gaster sidestepped, and when Reaver swung at Sans next, the youngest of the skeletal Reapers merely deflected the blow with his own scythe, revealing that the chitinous look of his scytheblade was only an impression.

“...So you came… in person…”, Gaster spoke calmly, and Reaver’s eyes narrowed, the Reaper of the Terminally Ill taking a step back before swinging their blade around sharply in an attempt to misdirect Gaster that he was aiming for him, but Sans saw through the maneuver and swung his own scythe upward, cutting the sleeve of Reaver’s formless robes and causing them to reveal a thin, sickly-looking arm. That, if anything, upset the usually-calm Head Reaper.

“YOU!! You… _abomination_!!!”, they called out, only to falter when Gaster’s disembodied hands shot magic pellets at them, forcing them to evade them instead of lashing out at Sans. “Y-you… Gaster, you _erred_!! You _defied_ our Queen and our duty!!”

“I did not. Queen Toriel should have realized that I have a claim on all those that are murdered-”, Gaster said, prompting a mirthless laugh from the Reaper of the Terminally Ill.

“These humans were not murdered! They were a necessary sacrifice!”

“FOR WHAT, LADY REAVER? WHAT MERITS THE SACRIFICE OF A LIFE, THE CAPTURE OF A SOUL?! YOU SEE, GASTER DID HIS DUTIES AS FATHER VERY THOROUGHLY, SPEAKING AT LENGTH ABOUT WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A REAPER!! IT MEANS, FIRST AND FOREMOST, TO GUIDE SOULS OF THE DEAD TO THE AFTERLIFE! _GUIDE_ THEM, _NOT PULL_ THEM FROM A LIVING HUMAN!! TAKING OUR SOULS WENT AGAINST THE VERY NATURE OF REAPERKIND! IT IS AN AFFRONT IN THE FACE OF THE ETERNAL WILL!!”

“The Eternal Will will look upon it benevolently, little whelp, and _smile_! It was _His_ wish that Reapers and Humans lived side by side!! Surely the Eternal Will is not so cruel as to doom us to eternity here, hidden away, when we are allowed to stand proud of our duty and command respect from the humans for helping their souls prepare to be reunited with their maker!!”, Reaver answered, backing away slowly until the sound of the front door slamming right behind them made them jump and turn around to see Papyrus stand there, his own scythe slung lazily over his shoulder - despite the massive size of the bone handle, Gaster Blaster-shaped tip and the vicious-looking glass-like orange blade protruding from it, the tall, lanky skeleton handled it like it weighed as much as a feather-duster.

“...so that’s why. you don’t care about the queen, you don’t care about your fellow reapers - if you had to sacrifice ‘em all to get the honor and worship you think you’re due-”

“We are _all_ due the basest respect from humans! Not this… this _contempt_ and _ingratitude_!!”, Reaver said hotly, prompting Papyrus to snort.

“humans _do_ respect death. it’s _inevitable_ , so w- _they_ have to. they don’t like it, sure, and they sure as hell don’t welcome death, but they do respect death. ...open your eyes, reaver, for once. that veil ain’t pulled up too high to stop you.”

“How _dare_ you! You’re nothing but an abomination tainted by human filth, regardless of what Gaster made of you! And _this insolent wretch needs to pay for his transgression in creating you and flaunting his disobedience to the Queen so overtly_!!”, Reaver shouted, swinging their scythe again at Gaster, aiming directly for his chest. The blade shone a brilliant white that had Gaster gasp, but Papyrus leapt to the defense of his father and almost lazily deflected the scythe, turning it upward, which caused Reaver to lose control over the swing. Their scythe slipped from their hands and, by the force of Papyrus’ parry, caused the weapon to turn mid-air and slice into Reaver’s pristine robes right where a human’s heart would be. Instantly, the Reaper gasped, and then screamed. “N-no!! _NO!!!_ ” For a second afterwards, there was absolute silence again, but then a slow crackling started to sound and the Head Reaper’s torso around the still-glowing blade of the scythe started to fall apart into nothingness.

“...Reaver… please… tell me she did not…”, Gaster said, suddenly looking pale, and Reaver mouthed something, whispering the answer in a pained tone.

“...You… must… pay… G-gaster…”

“W-WHAT IS… HAPPENING TO HER?!”, Sans demanded, and Gaster sighed.

“...The white glow… our Queen possesses a magical gem that holds a unique power… Head Reapers cannot be killed… by neither humans nor other Reapers… Only the Queen can… because only she can carry this heavy burden… this heavy task of judging her peers… And-”

“ _You… will… PAY… GASTER!!_ ”, Reaver gasped out before their form completely disintegrated and disappeared into thin air, sending the scythe clattering down. Gaster picked up the scythe, which shuddered at his touch before disintegrating as well, leaving behind a small shard of crystal that Gaster carefully held in his hand.

“FATHER? ...DID… IF THAT JEWEL TRULY BELONGS TO OUR GRACIOUS QUEEN… DOES THAT MEAN SHE… AUTHORIZED IT? OR DID LADY REAVER STEAL THAT SHARD?”, Sans asked carefully, and the Ferryman sighed.

“That gem was hardened in the Core... granted to our Queen by the Eternal Will Themself... No one could fracture it…. I must assume that Queen Toriel okayed the punishment… and by extension sought to see me erased… from this world... However… I know the best way to proceed… My sons, my dearest sons… promise me… you will abide my word… one last time…” Papyrus felt an inkling of worry, if the contraction of his bony eyebrows was anything to go by, but he nodded along with Sans nonetheless.

“you know we’ll follow you right into the darkest depths of the underground, dad.”

“YES! FATHER, YOUR WORD IS OUR COMMAND! WE HAVE SWORN FEALTY TO THE QUEEN OUT OF NECESSITY, BUT WE HAVE SWORN OBEDIENCE TO YOU OUT OF GRATITUDE AND LOVE! TRULY YOUR KIND AND CARING HEART CANNOT GUIDE US WRONG!!”

“...Sons… then close the curtains… and give the Reapers you have dispatched of the mercy they deserve…”, he said, handing Sans the brilliant white gem and waiting for Papyrus to have drawn the curtains of the shack closed and for the last specks of the formless Reapers that Reaver had brought with her to dissipate. Once the hut was quiet once more, he motioned two of his magical hands in the air in front of him, and in a flash of magic a thick, leather-bound book appeared.

“...dad?”, Papyrus asked, and Gaster smiled mysteriously.

“This book… King Asgore gifted it to me… The copy that our Prince Asriel and Prince-Consort Frisk had access to… was _not_ the copy that our gracious and benevolent Queen owned… but rather the copy of the late Reaver… And Reaver… transgressed worse than Frisk and Asriel did… You see, my sons… I was there when the Prince and Prince-Consort perished… and their combined essence… was _more_ than the combination… of their fused beings… There was a Reaper part… there was a Human part… but there was _something else_ as well… Not to mention… do you remember what I said… about how I was able to lay claim to your bodies? ...How did the Prince-Consort die?”, he asked, and Papyrus was the first to realize.

“oh _eternal will be damned_! they were _‘deathly sick’_... reaver. that sick thing… what did they do?”

“I can only guess… But it was not benevolent… nor was it done for the benefit of the Underworld…”

“SO IF THE LADY REAVER LIED TO THE QUEEN… WHY? WHAT DID THEY HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH?”, Sans asked in a careful tone, prompting Gaster to sigh and motion airily in front of himself.

“...I can only guess… but judging by what I heard today… _power_ , and _reverence_ … from Humans… I believe they intended to… unleash something… that would, as they would probably call it… ‘teach Humans the meaning of fear’...” The hut was deathly quiet for a full five seconds after that as each of the three skeletal Reapers processed the full meaning of that ominous thought. Then, Gaster smiled and opened the book, speaking while his hands fluttered and leafed through its pages: “Fortunately, our Prince and Prince-Consort were not the only ones with… _reading material_ … And this text… It details much… such as the kinds of souls needed… to break the curse that lays over us all… you included, now…”, he finished mournfully - Papyrus and Sans reacted as they had ever since hearing the perks and disadvantages of their new-found life: the shorter of the two skeletons straightened himself in a physical display of mental steeling, and Papyrus nodded, patting Gaster on the shoulder. “...The souls must have a strong determination… Able to cross over the limits of the Underground without perishing… And beside that… they must have one of seven traits… Papyrus, Sans… you remember when I talked… about your souls…?”

“yeah.”, Papyrus said, looking slightly pained but quickly speaking up while grinning to cover up the sadness he felt when he thought of his soul being captured in the palace, torn from his body so brutally for no other reason that its strength. “...you told me i had a lotta bravery inside’a me-”

“YEAH!! AND I HAVE A GREAT DEAL OF INNATE PATIENCE, YOU SAID!!”, Sans interrupted, prompting Papyrus to chuckle.

“...interruptin’ your bro when he’s talkin’ isn’t really showin’ all of that patience, sans.” Gaster, seeing how Sans took a deep and superfluous breath that showed a sibling argument in the making, responded quickly to defuse the atmosphere again and turn his two sons’ attention back to the matter at hand.

“...My sons… you are right… But please, listen… The other traits… are Integrity… Kindness… Perseverance… Justice… and Vivacity… And these souls can do much more… than just break the curse… that causes Reapers to appear as monsters… among Humans… They can also… _combat_ whatever Reaver has summoned… and probably has been cultivating in secret… For I do not believe… that the combined souls… of Asriel and Frisk just vanished...”

“...why are you tellin’ us all this, dad?”, Papyrus said, and Gaster carefully weighed his words before speaking them.

“...Because, my sons… my dear, beloved sons… We must summon together the Council… and report Reaper’s demise to the Queen-”

“dad!”, Papyrus said urgently, and Sans spoke with equal shock in his voice.

“FATHER, NO! THE QUEEN SANCTIONED REAVER TO KILL YOU!! WHAT GUARANTEE DO WE HAVE THAT SHE WILL NOT KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND, AS WAS THE INTENTION?”

“...She will not kill me… I cannot be certain, of course… but she will not… if we report Reaver’s possession of the jewel… as a _theft_ … The other members of the Council… are not as well-educated as me… they will not know the Queen’s gem cannot be broken by force…”

“what ‘bout that undyne chick? the one that was standin’ next to reaver, wearin’ the same robe?”, Papyrus asked shrewdly, prompting Gaster to grin and nod at his son.

“You are very observant, Papyrus… Undyne would know… but she is introverted… and will not speak in front of the Council… plus she has always feared Reaver… She will not challenge our story… No, the Queen will accept my version of the facts… because it means she can perpetuate the lie… she has told the Council… about how she acquired your souls… But she cannot overlook… that I used the jewel… I will most probably be banished… for that transgression…” Papyrus and Sans looked at each other in clear pain; then, slowly, the tallest of the two skeletal Reapers sighed.

“...dad, ‘s there no other way?”

“You know… that if there was any other way… that I would choose it… I would rather… enjoy the company of my two sons… than be shut away from the world… But we must all… test our virtues to the fullest extend… Be brave like you have never been, Papyrus… and Sans, display your patience proudly… Make me proud… ...I hope you know… that I choose this path… with a torn soul…”

“OUR SOULS, TOO, ACHE AT THE PROSPECT OF LOSING YOU, FATHER!!”, Sans said, launching himself into Gaster’s arms - the book dropped from Gaster’s magically-summoned hands but Papyrus caught it in his blue magic before wrapping one arm around Gaster’s slender form as well in a half-embrace.

“...dad… damn it, dad…”, Papyrus whispered, leaning his head down onto Gaster’s shoulder, and Gaster sighed melodiously, his hands patting Papyrus and Sans on the backs.

“...My sons… Please… read this book… carefully… and commit it to memory… When I am gone… I trust in you… to serve our Queen well… but at the same time… to try and preserve those souls, those _humans_ … as much as you can… during their stay in the Underworld… And if you cannot… and the seventh soul has wandered into the Underground… then...”

“then we’ll do what has to be done, dad. whatever it is that that reaver brought among us… we ain’t gonna let it finish what they started. our deaths aren’t gonna be used for that kind’a thing.”

“NEVER WILL I ALLOW MY SOUL TO BE USED FOR UNLEASHING SUCH HELL UPON THE PEOPLE I ONCE BELONGED WITH! OR UPON THE PEOPLE I NOW BELONG WITH, FOR THAT MATTER!!”, Sans said loudly, and Gaster smiled.

“...I believe… that you may yet succeed… my dear, great sons…” A tear ran down his cheek, but he wiped it away quickly before starting to point out the relevant parts of the text, finding Sans and Papyrus, as he’d always known them to be, avidly learning from him and absorbing the knowledge.

  
  


“...What is the meaning of this…?”

“ _... … ...I, for one, hope they explain…_ ” Queen Toriel entered the Hall of Judgment amid hushed whispers, striding to her throne to find Gaster’s two sons standing there.

“queen toriel, we are your humble servants-”

“MOST GRACIOUS QUEEN TORIEL! WE ARE YOUR HUMBLE SERVANTS, COME TO YOU TO REPORT A TERRIBLE TRANSGRESSION OF THE GRAVEST KIND!! REAVER, THE REAPER OF THE TERMINALLY ILL, HAS COMMITTED WHAT AMOUNTS TO TREASON, HAVING DUPED YOU, OUR FAIR RULER!!” It was as she expected: Papyrus, who had been most defiant to her alongside his father, seemed curt in his speech and motions, but the emotional and more open Sans was flustered and clearly thrown off, his speech even more grandiose as it had been before, when he’d been introduced to her. She responded as she had rehearsed.

“Sans, Papyrus, I recognise that you come before me to report Reaver’s transgression, but our laws state that they must be allowed the opportunity to answer those accusations-”

“That… will not be possible…” The wheezy, whisper-like voice issuing from the doorway had Toriel’s soul feel like ice in her chest. Eyes wide, she looked to see Gaster standing there, whole, undamaged. And in his hands he held the shard of her jewel, the shard that captured the only magic in the Underworld that could end a Reaper’s life. If Toriel had blood, it would have run cold in her veins. “...My Queen… Reaver has attacked us… myself, and my two sons… in our home… earlier tonight… I believe they felt slighted… by my having children… before them… But that attack in itself is not a transgression… however… this shard of the gem you hold…” Toriel already rose from her throne again, the staff in her hands, its light shimmering just below the surface, but then Gaster fell to both knees in between his sons and held out the shard to her, speaking words that struck confusion and wonder in the heart of her: “...It has clearly been stolen… Reaver… must have duped you… earlier today… after the meeting… or perhaps during… while we were debating…”

That, more than anything else, had Toriel pause. Gaster was giving her a way out? Why? Did he genuinely believe Reaver to have stolen the shard? Gaster was one of the oldest and most learned Reapers in the Underworld, he couldn’t truly believe that the Soul Gem could be fractured by any means other than her own hands… but then, why didn’t he call this out?

“...I… I cannot…”, she said softly, sinking back into her throne, allowing Gaster to speak further so he’d shed light on the situation. His being here meant that Reaver had failed, but then… where was the Reaper of the Terminally Ill? Why didn’t they appear to refute Gaster’s accusations?

“...Reaver spoke… hatefully… of the curse-”

“Well, we _all_ hate the curse, Gaster…”, Gerson spoke up from his spot next to one of the pillars, and Toriel was just about to agree with the old turtle-monster when Gaster nodded and motioned gravely with his hands.

“True, Gerson, my old friend… but Reaver also spoke hatefully… of _us_ … choosing to _hide_ … behind the barrier spell… They believed… that we were due _power_ over the humans… But I believe… that that negates everything… our Prince-Consort Frisk taught us…” Now Toriel had to actually bring a hand up to her chest to control her fluttering soul. After the emotional time she’d had - her children dying, her fight with Asgore which ended in her husband’s leaving, the way she had been forced to kill those two human children that fell… Reaver’s calm but insistent whisper into her ear that Gaster had transgressed… Even now, seeing Sans and Papyrus kneel in front of her brought back flashes of their faces when they’d still been human, huddled and crying in front of her. But Gaster spoke on, his voice turning bitter for good reason. “...Reaver… came to kill… but in the end… I defended myself, and Reaver… lost control of their weapon, and… they were killed instead. Though I defended myself… and though I could not know… that Reaver had _stolen_ from you, my Queen… To cause a Reaper to die is the gravest… fault… So I have come… to present myself… to your _mercy_ and _judgment_ …” His hands fell to his sides again as he sighed and bowed down his head - Toriel would call it ‘repentant’ if she didn’t know better, if Reaver hadn’t told her that the man breathed defiance. What mercy could he hope for? If he knew that Reaver had not stolen from her, then why would he come to report the death but to taunt her with the failure?

Yet the murmur of whispers that arose from the other Head Reapers reminded her that the others were _not_ wise to all of this. The other Head Reapers trusted and respected Gaster as the oldest of them, older even than Gerson, and they looked to his wisdom for guidance at times when it wasn’t of enough importance to warrant her attention. Reaver’s status as Royal Scientist had been higher than Gaster’s status, by _far_ , and yet Gaster was respected more than they had ever been. In the end, however, it was Sans speaking up in his energetic, loud tone that was now fraught with worry and distress that had Toriel’s mind swayed.

“MY FAIR AND GRACIOUS QUEEN TORIEL… I KNOW MY FATHER HAS COMMITTED A FAULT THAT CAN NEVER BE REPAIRED, BUT I PLEAD WITH YOU… FOR THE SAKE OF ALL OF US… FOR THE SAKE OF ME AND MY BROTHER… SHOW MY FATHER THE MERCY AND COMPASSION THAT HE HAS TOLD ME ABOUT! THE COMPASSION THAT ONE SO RADIANT AND COMPELLING AS YOURSELF TRULY EMBODIES AND EXEMPLIFIES!! ...THE COMPASSION, MY QUEEN…” Sans’ voice grew softer as he rose, took a step closer to grasp her hand, then kneeling again deeply, his smooth forehead pressed against the back of her furry paw and sending a jolt of surprise through her at the warmth that he exuded. “...THE COMPASSION THAT ENABLES YOU TO SIT BEFORE US ALL AND RULE US IN THE WAY THAT BENEFITS THE MANY INSTEAD OF THE FEW, BEARING A BURDEN NO OTHER COULD BEAR WITH SUCH DIGNITY AND GRACE…”

Very gently freeing her hand from Sans’ loose grasp, Toriel took a steadying breath as she pointedly looked right in Gaster’s eyes, seeing acceptance there - he knew she couldn’t punish him for what he’d done to Reaver by ending _his life_ as well, but he fully accepted the worst of the convictions she could still apply, and that gave her the incentive to speak authoratively to the crowd in general and Gaster in particular.

“Gaster, your actions have caused the Underworld to lose its Reaper of the Terminally Ill, and a valued member of the Council. That is punishable by the most severe of sentences. However, we must take into account that you did not steal that gem, that Reaver came to kill you and you merely defended yourself… and furthermore, your clear remorse and your plea for my mercy - as well as your sons’ pleas - speak in your favor and I will grant you that mercy for as far as it can extend under the circumstances.” She paused for a second to allow Gaster to speak, which he did softly and with minimal motions of his hands.

“...I understand… and I will bear the consequences of this… without complaint…”

“I must take into account that we need you, Gaster, as you are the Ferryman of the Underground, responsible for transporting the souls of the deceased to the right locations. Therefore my sentence is as follows: you are to go to your boat… and you are to _remain_ on it. Never again will your feet touch the soil of our Underworld. This implies that your sons will inherit your position on the Council, your house, your Reapers - from this day forward, you will Reap alone all those that fall victim to suffocation.” The other Reapers in the Hall of Judgment were deathly quiet - the only sound audible was Grillby’s ambient crackling and the dry creaking of Gaster’s bones as he nodded.

“...As you command… gracious Queen… Your judgment… is fair… and I accept my punishment...”

“Then go forth from this place, Gaster. And remember, with each time that you pull to dock, the error that brought you this punishment.”, Toriel said gravely, her eyes fixing first on Gaster, whos expression was unreadable from underneath his hood; then, she looked at Papyrus, but like his father the tall skeletal Reaper had pulled up his hood, smoke swirling slowly from it; and finally she looked at Sans, and the mixture of grief and relief he displayed showed that his feelings for Gaster as his father were genuine at heart. She decided then and there that she could trust at least this boisterous and fierce son of the Ferryman. “This emergency meeting is now adjourned. Let us all accompany Gaster to the pier.” Gaster, as the punished, was forced to wait and go last, while Sans and Papyrus had to go first since they would be the last to be allowed their farewells: seeking out someone in exile meant joining that Reaper, so the two new skeleton-Reapers were going to treat this as Gaster’s death-bed. But she, as the Queen, had to head the procession and say the parting words to the Ferryman. At first, while walking ahead, Sans’ footsteps quick behind hers and Papyrus’ only one or two steps after his brother’s, it felt light in her mind knowing she’d dealt with a difficult situation as best as she could. She even mentally commended herself for dealing with the issue that Gaster posed after all, though the loss of Reaver, who had been a good friend to her, was a tremendously high cost for that. But when they arrived at the riverbank, where Gaster’s boat lay moored, and the other Head Reapers started talking to Gaster and lamenting how painful it would be to still see him but never be allowed to interact with him, she felt a creeping doubt enter her heart. Grillby in particular was loud in his farewells, the fire elemental shedding tears that burned even the hardened soil of the Hotlands as he embraced Gaster, his burning hands and the flames of his face hissing against Gaster’s cloak. Conversely, Undyne and Gaster exchanged only a few whispered words, but in the end the ichthyan Reaper nodded, tears brimming in her large eyes. And then, Gaster turned to his sons.

“...Papyrus… Sans… Remember all that I taught you… and remember… though I will not be there with you in body… I will always be with you both in spirit… my dearest sons… you will make me so proud…”

“we’re never gonna forget what you taught us, dad! god, w-we’re gonna… _d-dad_!”, Papyrus answered, throwing his arms around his father, his lanky frame looking extremely thin in that moment as he and Gaster were pressed together, but then Gaster turned to Sans to hug him and it was the Ferryman that looked thin and willowy.

“FATHER! I… T-THE MAGNIFICENT SANS… I WILL MAKE YOU PROUD EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY! YOU W-WILL NOT BE D-DISAPPOINTED! Y-YOUR LESSONS WILL M-MAKE ME STAND ALL THE TALLER IN THE COUNCIL, DEFENDING YOUR NAME FROM ALL THAT SEE THIS DAY AND HOUR AS A BLEMISH! YOU HAVE ONLY DEFENDED YOURSELF FROM THAT MALICIOUS LADY REAVER, WHO NOT ONLY STOLE FROM THE QUEEN BUT SOUGHT TO KILL YOU, ONE OF HER OWN KIND, LIKE A COMMON _H-H-HUMAN_!!”, the slight skeleton blurted out in the middle of his tears, his gloved hands clenched tightly beside his form in anger directed fully at Reaver, and Toriel suddenly felt out of her depth. The way the Ferryman had presented it, _Reaver_ had been in the wrong _twice_ , and Gaster’s only sin had been to defend his life; for the first time, Queen Toriel felt something of remorse for having sanctioned Reaver to take Gaster’s life. Reaver had been an advisor to her, just like Gaster had been to Asgore; and now, her husband had taken a stand against her, and Gaster had clearly condemned her actions as well. Would she have let Reaver take Asgore’s life for openly defying her? Would _she_ have taken her husband’s life for that reason? Would _she_ have gone after the Ferryman in Reaver’s stead?

Sighing, she raised her staff, plunging everyone save the three skeletal Reapers into immediate silence to allow her to speak. Her words were careful, soft-spoken, and the tone of them solemn and grave.

“...The Underworld has lost too much in such a short period of time. The Prince and Prince-Consort… then my dear King, Asgore, saw fit to remove himself from our midst… and now not only has Reaver died, but Gaster must pay the price for having been the instrument of their demise… I have spoken the harsh judgment, but allow me now, before you must fulfill it… for the sake of your importance to the Underworld… Gaster, speak to me one last time, in advice, as you gave to Asgore. Which of your sons can best fill in your footsteps at the Council?”

“...Are you… asking me to choose between my sons… my Queen?”, Gaster asked in the absolute silence that still hung around the procession, and Toriel shook her head slowly.

“I am not asking you to say you love one above the other, Gaster, I am merely asking you which of your two sons has your even temperament and erudition… _most_.”, she added when Papyrus gave her a glance that was part annoyance and part genuine confusion. That one glance, however, told her the answer even before Gaster spoke it.

“Then I must answer… that Papyrus is that one…”

“Very well. Papyrus, you will fill in your father’s shoes in the Council from here on. You will provide insights based on your inner balance and learning where they are needed. And Sans will fill Reaver’s position-”

“Q-queen T-to-toriel!”, Undyne protested, but Toriel raised a hand impatiently and finished her thought as though the fish-Reaper hadn’t spoken at all.

“-as my personal advisor. The position of Royal Scientist is Undyne’s from now on, she _did_ study for years under Reaver’s supervision after all… Sans, you will stand by my side from here on, as my closest advisor and confidant. That means that everything I tell you in the strictest confidence is _not_ to be shared with _anyone_ , not even _your brother_.”, she spoke sternly, and just as she had expected, Sans looked utterly shocked but then smiled broadly, warmy and above all happily as he kneeled down in front of her, tears still streaming down his face.

“S-SUCH AN HONOR… I… M-MWEH! I W-WILL SERVE YOU WITH THE SAME DEDICATION AND EAGERNESS AS MY FATHER WOULD HAVE! AND I WILL SERVE YOU A HUNDRED - NO, A _THOUSAND_ TIMES BETTER THAN THE LADY REAVER, WHO STOLE FROM YOU, MY GRACIOUS AND GOLDEN-HEARTED QUEEN!!”

“...My Queen… your keeping my sons close… in such positions of high regard… means much to me…”, Gaster said, sounding relieved - for a split second, when the Queen of all Reapers looked him right into the eyes, she saw genuine gratitude, and she felt like he knew the doubt that had motivated her to speak - and then, he bowed his head mournfully and pulled up his hood again. “...Knowing that my sons… are well off… will give me peace… during this exile…”

“Go, and may the Eternal Will yet grant you benevolence and mercy.”, Toriel said, a phrase which the other Reapers echoed - Papyrus’ words were accompanied by a soft swirl of smoke once more, and Sans’ energetic repetition was once more laden with grief. Then, Gaster stepped onto his ferry, and Toriel spoke the words that the law of the Underworld commanded her to speak: “...From now on, whoever seeks out the company of Gaster, former Head Reaper, formerly in the Council of the Underground, Ferryman… will join him in exile. Let these words be heard the world around!”

“We hear and obey, Queen Toriel.”, all the other Head Reapers said, Sans and Papyrus included, before turning around as Gaster’s barge slowly wound its way up the Nameless River. The other Reapers all wound their way back home - Undyne, Muffet and Gerson heading towards the Waterfalls while Grillby simply walked back up to the Hotlands and then disappeared in a short burst of fire that flared up the entire length of the geothermal reactor powering the Reaper civilization. Sans and Papyrus stood next to the pier for a while before Papyrus motioned for them to head towards the Waterfalls as well, but Sans shook his head and walked up to the Queen.

“...QUEEN TORIEL? I… M-MAY I PROVIDE YOU MY FIRST SERVICE AS YOUR PERSONAL ADVISOR?”, he asked a little timidly, prompting Toriel to look down at him with added warmth, reminding herself that he could not be responsible for his pseudo-father’s wrongdoings.

“You may, of course, my young friend.”

“THEN… THEN PERHAPS… COULD WE TALK? I-IN THE PALACE?” The hesitation in his words was not idle: Toriel felt a little confronted by the suggestion of a conversation, and her reaction had to have displayed as much, because the slight skeletal Reaper hastened to add: “M-MY QUEEN, I JUST… Y-YOU HAVE LOST A FRIEND TONIGHT, SOMEONE THAT YOU CONFIDED IN… AND I H-HAVE LOST MY FATHER… AND I HAVE THIS NEW TASK THAT I FEEL I SHOULD TAKE CARE OF AS WELL AS I POSSIBLY CAN!! S-SO… SO PERHAPS WE… COULD TALK? AND ESTABLISH A MEASURE OF… TRUST?” His eyesockets, when they lighted on her, showed light blue pupils that were glittering from within with hope and eager care, and Toriel sighed. At first, she’d decided that giving the two skeletal ‘brothers’ positions in the Council was a good way to keep them in line, but now she felt like that had been a bad decision. How could she ever trust Sans? How could she have given him a position with such great and unrestricted access to her life? “Q-QUEEN TORIEL? YOUR EVER-GRACEFUL HIGHNESS?”, Sans spoke softly, his words reverent and soft, his bony digits on hers, and the gesture felt so painfully familiar that she nearly recoiled before deciding that that familiarity meant something else as well.

She _could_ trust Sans.

Papyrus looked too much like Gaster and acted too much like his father for her to be truly at ease around him, especially knowing that Gaster had killed Reaver - in self-defence, but nevertheless; but Sans looked and felt innocent, and warm-hearted… just like Asgore had been to her…

“...I think that is a great idea, Sans the Magnificent… we will talk, and get to know one another.”

 


End file.
